MARTIN JOHNSON

At last. It’s all over. No more getting up in the middle of the night, hoping you didn’t wake anyone up with a loud volley of expletives after turning on the radio, and trying to fight off the urge to kick the cat whilst harrumphing your way back up the stairs to bed. At least England were kind enough to expire quickly on the last day of the series, although tuning in to find that the hoped-for-rearguard action had been replaced by some turgid World Service programme on social media etiquette was even more of a punishment than usual.
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